


Inevitable

by koalathebear



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 15:55:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalathebear/pseuds/koalathebear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during season 2.  Nothing beyond the season finale of season 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inevitable

Ronon stares into the eyes of the marine he is training. The others watch intently.

"Thigh, strip, cut, lift, cut ... and finish". He takes the marine's arm, twists it behind his back, takes the knife off him and holds it to his throat.

"Awesome!" the marine exclaims enthusiastically, clearly impressed by the display. Ronon is amused despite himself. Training is the same everywhere and in doing this, even though he is in such an alien environment, it starts to feel like he is in a place where he belongs.

The doors slide open and Dr Elizabeth Weir walks in. "Ronon. Could I have a word?" she asks him politely.

He hands the knife to a marine and walks over to where Elizabeth waits by the door. He stands before her silently, his gaze not moving from her face.

The fact that the leader of the expedition is a woman did not surprise him. What surprised him at their first encounter was how slim and helpless she seemed.

He now now knows that Elizabeth Weir is much more than she appears. He knows that she commands unswerving respect and loyalty from her people - the mark of a good leader. The fact that a man like Sheppard chooses to follow Elizabeth Weir speaks volumes.

Elizabeth stares at Ronon Dex, noting his crossed arms. He is silent and somewhat overwhelming in his uncompromising masculinity. She tries hard not to let her gaze rest on his tanned, muscular forearms - not an easy task given the high disparity between them.

"I understand Major Sheppard extended an invitation to you to join his team," she says politely. She's pleased with the detatched professionalism she manages to convey.

"Yeah, he did".

"Well, he was supposed to speak to me about that first," she informs him. She gives him a polite and slightly perfunctory smile.

"OK," he says, looking completely unruffled or untroubled by Sheppard's breach of protocol. He wonders why the people around here feel the need to speak so much. McKay, Sheppard, Zelenka, Weir - they all like to talk and hypothesise with endless energy. There is no quiet around them as the air is filled with their constant verbage, cutting across and overlaying one other. Teyla is less inclined to fill the silence with noise, but she too speaks more than Ronon. That's not hard though. His years of being alone make him accustomed to the silence.

Ronon's reaction or lack thereof appears to give Elizabeth pause, making her slightly hesitant about continuing. Her mask of coolness slips despite her best efforts to keep it in place.

"Look, it's not that I don't trust you, or value any contributions you may have to make, or that you _will_ make if you do join us - it's just it is a rather big decision". She stands and waits expectantly for Ronon to comment or to say anything but he merely continues to stand there, looking at her impassively.

To Elizabeth's growing irritation and consternation, the silence starts to make _her_ feel awkward and self-conscious even though it clearly has absolutely no effect on him.

Ronon is amused. Silence doesn't trouble him in the slightest. Unlike the others, he doesn't know the meaning of an uncomfortable silence. If Weir is trying to psyche him out with silence, then she's going to lose.

"So how do _you_ feel?" she finally demands of him.

"I'm thinkin' about it," he responds, not venturing any more words than he feels he needs.

"OK, good!" Elizabeth declares brightly, clearly completely at a loss with how to respond to his lack of responsiveness. "Well, I'm thinkin' about it too. So I guess we'll just keep in touch, then?" she suggests.

"OK," he agrees in his amiably laconic fashion, the faintest hint of an almost smile on his face.

Without waiting to see if she has anything else to say to him, he turns to walk back towards the marines, who are still practising the moves he's been teaching them. As far as he's concerned, everything that needs to be said has been said.

"OK!" Elizabeth exclaims to the air, very aware that the 'interview' has not proceeded according to plan at all.

Shaking her head slightly in disbelieving bemusement, she walks out of the room. The doors close behind her and Ronon pauses in his teaching to watch her leave, an unreadable gleam in his dark eyes.

"She's cool as ice," one of the other marines ventures. "If she didn't look the way she does, you could forget she was a woman".

Ronon turns his head and raises an eyebrow at the marine who has just spoken.

"You've got more to learn than just fighting technique".

***

The two men are facing each other across a board, their faces are expressionless as they stare at one another. Ronon Dex sits a short distance away watching intently, clearly fascinated by what he sees.

He glances up briefly as Dr Elizabeth Weir approaches his table, carrying a tray of food.

"May I join you?" she asks him politely. He nods and she slides into the seat beside him, her gaze following the direction of his. She watches the two chess players for a moment before speaking.

"It's called chess. It's a game," she explains, hoping that she isn't telling the Satedan something he already knows.

"They've been sitting there like that since I sat down," he remarks.

"Those two, they play every single day".

"Neither one of them's even blinked yet".

"Well, it's not really a game of action," she tells him.

"I can see that". His voice and smile are laced with sarcasm.

"It's all about strategy. He's planning his next move, and the move after that, and the move after that....." she elaborates.

"I guess you do a lot of that around here," he says in his customarily brief manner.

"Yes, we do. I take it that's not how you prefer to do things".

"No," he says with a slightly abrupt tone to his voice. He rises, picking up his tray. "I'm leaving," he says flatly.

Elizabeth stares at him in consternation. "Hey, Ronon, wait. Just because we do things differently, doesn't mean we can't learn from each other and Colonel Sheppard has already invested an incredible amount of time and energy trying to make you an integral part of his team". Her voice is as earnest as her face, her dark eyes very serious and steady.

Throughout her entire speech Ronon is staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

"I meant I'm leaving the table," he says politely, the look in his eyes is faintly quizzical.

"Oh," Elizabeth responds, her face is filled with embarrassment, staring at him speechlessly.

"Is that OK?" he asks her, still very polite but although his face is impassive, there is a wealth of amusement in his eyes. He marvels at the rare feeling of lightness and laughter that threatens to spill out of him.

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry - I, I thought ..." she stammers, looking as though she wishes she could be anywhere but there, conscious that Ronon Dex's gaze is resting very warmly on her face, his eyes filled with uncharacteristic laughter that he is making no attempt to hide.

McKay's voice sounds on the radio. "Dr Weir?"

"Rodney, what is it?" she demands thankfully, relieved to have something to divert her from her embarrassment and hoping that Ronon will take the opportunity to leave.

"Something you should see here".

"I'm on my way," she exclaims to Rodney and rises from her seat. She glances over at Ronon who is still standing there looking at her. "I'm leaving too!" she announces briefly, looking a bit sheepish.

"OK," he counters. She has no idea how the dark-eyed Satedan manages to look so damned amused without actually smiling.

"OK!" she exclaims again, the power of coherent speech completely deserting her and she hastily retreats, fully aware that Ronon is standing there, tray in hand, not moving as he watches her leave.

Ronon is amused and intrigued despite himself. Elizabeth Weir is startlingly vulnerable when she is flustered. Elizabeth as a woman and not the leader of Atlantis is warm and compelling. A gleam of speculative interest is in Ronon's eyes as he contemplates things that hadn't occurred to him until that moment.

***

Ronan watches as Weir vaults lightly over the balcony. He aims his stunner down to where she has dropped below but it is too dark to see anything.

"How'd she know?" he asks.

"Intuition," Teyla tells him flatly.

"All right, we need to split up," he says resolutely. "I'll take Sheppard, you go after Weir".

"Why?"

"`Cause I know how he thinks. I don't have the slightest clue how _she_ thinks," he confesses frankly as he runs off.

His opinion remains unchanged as he lies on the ground, grunting in pain as his hot blood pours through his fingers, thick and sticky.

Moments later, everything goes away as the world goes black around him.

***

She has never seen him look so pale and still before. His chest rises and falls. He has never been particularly noisome - a tall, watchful giant but the silence of him frightens her now. She has lost track of how long she has been sitting there beside him simply to watch him breathe, thankful that the injury had is not more serious.

Beckett stops by and attempts to reassure her yet again that it isn't her fault. She holds up her hand to stop his words.

"Carson. I know. But I also remember shooting him," she tells the doctor who looks at her sympathetically.

"Elizabeth - you should also rest. He's going to be fine, there's absolutely no need for you to sit here".

He sighs, rests his hand on her shoulder and squeezes lightly before he leaves her alone again. She continues to sit and watch over the tall, unconscious man whom she barely knows despite the fact that he has become an integral part of Sheppard's team and by extension part of her own team.

"If you just wanted to get my attention, there were easier ways". His voice startles her and she almost jumps, staring at him in shock. She looks at his face and realises that he is finally awake and that he is watching her unblinkingly with his steady, assessing gaze. She finds the awkwardness returning and wonders what it is about this man that unsettles her so much.

"What are you talking about?" she demands, more sharply than she intends.

"Nothing ... must be the drugs Dr Beckett gave me," he says, his mouth unsmiling but she can tell that he is laughing at her. His eyes don't move from her face.

"I insist on you ..."

"So are you you again?" He demands abruptly, interrupting her.

Elizabeth flinches and nods. "Yes .... she's gone. Thank goodness". She finds herself reaching for words and then takes a deep breath. "Ronon, I realise that nothing I say can possibly be sufficient to convey the extent of how truly sorry I am for what happened. Please allow me to express my most sincere apologies for ...." her voice trails off as she realises that he is smiling. "What?" she demands defensively, feeling very self-conscious.

He raises his eyebrows but says nothing.

"Why are you smiling like that?"

"You can't even say sorry without making it a speech," he says with a faint smile. He glances around the infirmary with a raised eyebrow. "Just the two of us - but you still sound like Dr Weir making an announcement to all of Atlantis," he remarks.

Elizabeth stares at him and he keeps watching her. She opens her mouth as if to speak again and then when she finds that she is struggling to find the words, she makes a small helpless gesture with her hands and a sigh escapes her.

"Ronon. I'm sorry. I ...," she says in a soft voice that is just more than a whisper and her eyes are dark with genuine apology. She gives up on any attempt to be more eloquent.

Ronon stares at her, shocked by the intensity of her regret and guilt. He has never seen her at a loss for words before. He would speak but is even further taken aback when she reaches out her hand. It hovers above his for the merest whisper of a moment but she doesn't touch him. She reaches up as if she dares to touch his cheek but pulls back abruptly before she can touch him. He is conscious of a stab of disappointment.

"Sorry. That's all," she whispers and then walks out of the room abruptly without another word.

Ronon watches her leave. It has to be the damned pain meds. She didn't even touch him - but for some reason his skin burns.

***

When Lorne and his men go missing, suspected dead, Weir keeps her composure even though everyone knows how much she hurts when she loses anyone in her team.

As Elizabeth stands by the charred body in the Infirmary, Beckett tells her that the bodies are not of Lorne and his men. No expression crosses her face except carefully controlled surprise.

"But they were wearing their dog tags," she says.

Ronon starts to feel slightly unsettled. Despite the fact that Elizabeth's face and voice gives nothing away, he is startled to find that he can tell that she's daring to hope. There is a barely perceptible flicker of excitement in her which which she is clearly trying to suppress. She doesn't want to get anyone's hopes up, not even her own. Ronon doesn't even want to think about how it is that can sense all of this despite the mask that Weir uses to face the world.

It bothers him that when he lies awake in his bed at night, staring at the ceiling, he sees Elizabeth's face before him. Nonetheless, Ronon doesn't try to analyse it. Introspection can get a man killed.

Ronon tells Weir that they must return to question the villagers as Lorne and his men could still be alive.

"OK. But regular radio contact, please". Despite the politeness of her tone, her gaze is like steel and her words are not a request.

Teyla nods but Ronon's gaze rests on Elizabeth's face for a moment before flickering away again. He accepts it as the order it is and frowns when he realises he does not resent being told what to do by this woman. Elizabeth Weir does not rule through fear. Nor is it through a sense of her own importance and ego. She is a leader with compassion, a trait that in some leaders would be regarded as a failing.

When Ronon and Teyla return with photographs of Atlantis off world team members, Weir's brow creases in a perplexed frown as she studies the images before her.

"And why aren't we on it?" Ronon demands.

"Excuse me?" Elizabeth asks with that look of very polite inquiry she has that always reminds him of Satedan Aristocracy. He cannot bring himself to resent this woman with her refined and poised ways. The resemblance to the Satedan elite is only superficial for Elizabeth is too involved with and interested in the welfare of her people to be a member of the uncaring ruling class.

"Sheppard's on the list. McKay is on the list. Why aren't Teyla and me?"

"What, you're feeling left out?" Elizabeth demands and there is a flicker of amusement on her face as she looks up into Ronon's face.

"I just wanna know who thinks I'm not a threat and give `em a chance to change their mind," he says, smiling down at her, his eyes meeting hers, the amusement in his face and voice matching hers. It's like Teyla isn't even there as the two of them stare at one another for a long moment.

Elizabeth makes the connection between the photographs swiftly, her mind moving rapidly as she considers the implications. Ronon can't take his eyes off her, staring at her in fascination. He realises that she is discomfitted by his study of her face. She stares directly at Teyla as she speaks with the deliberate manner of a person determined to avoid someone's gaze. Ronon keeps staring at her as if looking at her will give him the answers to questions he has been asking himself asking about Dr Elizabeth Weir since that quiet evening in the Infirmary.

Later, when Weir realises that Sheppard and McKay have walked into a Genii trap, she does not betray any visible signs of panic. Ronon can see why people think that this woman is cold although he can't rid himself of the notion that if he touched her, the heat would burn them both.

"Let me get in there and see what I can do," Ronon tells her.

"No. The last thing I need is for more of us to fall into their hands." He considers arguing but remains silent as she formulates an alternate plan. He listens as she tells the Genii that many of their people can be cured. She is telling the truth but is able to use the truth as a weapon to manipulate the situation and ultimately sway Ladon. Ronon finds himself marvelling at the artistry of her ruthlessness. Elizabeth Weir is a dangerous woman. Strong, clever and completely fascinating.

"Do we have a backup plan?" he demands of her, querying her decision to see if the Genii will make a trade.

"We're not handing ten of our Jumpers over to the Genii. Let's just hope this works," she tells him and strides away purposefully, nothing betraying that she is conscious that Ronon is watching her. Nonetheless, Ronon knows that she is aware of his scrutiny. His eyes are assessing, detecting the traces of heat that flicker unnoticed by most about the edges of her icy persona.

Her gamble succeeds. Sheppard calls the result a win and Ronon looks on from a distance as the colonel sits on the edge of Weir's desk talking to her. Sheppard and Weir have an easy relationship of mutual confidence and closeness but there are none of the telltale signs that indicate physical intimacy.

"That was a bit closer than I like," Lorne tells him as the two of them stand side by side watching Sheppard talking to Weir.

Ronon glances over at Lorne who looks a little comical dressed in Genii rural clothing, a kerchief knotted around in a rustic fashion around his throat.

"Without firing a shot, she saved you all today," Ronon muses, sounding faintly puzzled.

Lorne's gaze rests warmly on Elizabeth Weir's face and he nods. "She's an exceptional woman. I don't pretend to understand her - but she is formidable."

Ronon considers Lorne's words for a long moment. "You respect her."

Lorne gives him a look that indicated that Ronon has just asked a very stupid question. "Don't you?"

"You do not fear that her softness is a sign of weakness?" The pronounced arch of his eyebrows lifts even further as he asks the question.

Lorne smiles despite himself. There is a faintly knowing gleam in his eyes as he studies the tall impassive man who towers above him.

"Stop asking me questions you've already answered, Ronon," he says. He nods and takes his leave.

Ronon walks up to Elizabeth Weir's office. He leans in her doorway and watches her as she works. She is completely engrossed in her reading, a faint furrow of concentration on her brow. A vainer woman wouldn't frown for fear of causing wrinkles.

"Is there something I can help you with, Ronon?" Elizabeth asks as she suddenly realises that he is standing leaning in her doorway watching her.

Ronon considers her question for a moment before answering.

"No," he tells her.

"I see ...." Elizabeth says, arching one brow and inclining her head slightly, clearly perplexed.

She stares at him for a moment and he can see her eyes darken. He knows she finds him attractive. He can feel it. Ronon finds himself wondering what she tastes like. He already knows the soft scent of her body but he can't help being curious about how it would feel to touch her, to feel her slender hands against his own skin.

"Is there something you want to help me with?" she asks, still clearly very uncomfortable with long silences.

Ronon looks at her. "Probably," he says enigmatically and she looks even more puzzled. "Smart thinking today," he tells her and Elizabeth smiles despite herself as he walks away.

***

The tension in the conference room is almost tangible.

"He had completely transformed back into a Wraith?" Elizabeth asks in disbelief.

"Not completely, but well on his way," Sheppard tells her.

"His reversion occurred at a much more accelerated rate than we anticipated," Beckett says regretfully.

"Unfortunately, his memory of what we did to him remained intact," Teyla says and the sorrow in her dark eyes is evident to all.

"I should have killed him when I had the chance," Ronon says flatly and his eyes are cold and hostile.

Everyone looks startled when McKay agrees. "He's right. We are totally screwed. Not only has our dear lieutenant rejoined the Wraith, but he's taken with him the knowledge that Atlantis still exists".

"God knows what type of intel he was able to pick up during his stay," Sheppard concedes.

"They will send another wave of hive ships," Teyla adds, stating the obvious.

"Probably already on their way," Ronon says grimly.

"And this time, I'm guessing they're not gonna fall for the whole invisibility trick," McKay warns them.

"We need to come up with a new defence plan," Elizabeth says, the strain and worry evident in her face.

"We're gonna need more fire power," Sheppard tells her and Elizabeth nods, her face tight and anxious.

Much later as Ronon walks restlessly through the darkness he recognises a familiar figure standing on the balcony staring out at the sea. He often sees her standing like that, alone and contemplative. Sometimes she is joined by Sheppard but mostly she's just there by herself, caught up in her own world. The burden of responsibility rests heavily on her slender but capable shoulders. Although he doesn't always agree with the consensus approach she takes to leadership, he has to admire it.

She doesn't turn when he approaches.

"I told you from the start the whole thing was a bad idea".

"You've already made your thoughts on the matter clear, Ronon," Elizabeth says quietly and her voice is weary. "You can't blame us for trying .... I thought that Michael ..."

"Was a Wraith, is a Wraith and will always be one".

"But the effect of the retrovirus was so startling, I thought we had a real chance to..."

"I told you. That's just on the outside. Where I come from, it's what's on the inside that counts. Is this Earth of yours so different that it only looks at the surface?" he demands bluntly.

"He seemed so human," Elizabeth said and her slender hand clenches the railing convulsively. She doesn't look at him and Ronon smiles bitterly.

"You know you should have killed him. He's the enemy - no matter how he looked and sounded, he was never human."

Elizabeth winces, pain stabbing through her tense shoulders. The motion does not go unnoticed by Ronon. He resists the temptation to reach out and massage the knot of tension from her shoulders.

"Anyway it's done. Probably no point going over it again," Ronon says bluntly and Elizabeth turns to stare at him. She wonders if this is the Satedan's version of an apology.

"In a war, you have to try different tactics. When you fail, you retreat, learn from your losses and try something different".

"Maybe deep down I was hoping that if we made him human, we could find a way to reach them".

"It's not your place to do that," Ronon says with a careless shrug. "When the colonel was turning into bug - do you think that was right? Do you think he liked that? We are what we are, Dr. Weir".

"And you think that we can never change and be more than we are?" she wants to know.

"That's a decision only each individual can and should make," Ronon tells her.

His voiced is harsher than he intends because he does not like the fact that he can smell the soft fragrance of her perfume. He wants to put his mouth on hers. He wants to kiss her in secret places, taste her and make her moan as she moans his name in pleasure. He wonders what Elizabeth Weir is like when she has lost control of herself. Ronon's eyes blaze in sudden heat.

The fact that he wants to step closer to her displeases him even more so when she opens her mouth as if to speak again, he says abruptly,"You should go to bed, you look tired. 'night, Dr Weir".

He walks away from her without a glance.

Elizabeth watches him walk away, exhaling slowly.

"Okay ......" she mutters to the air.

***

"It would mean at least something good came of our experiment with Michael," Beckett says thoughtfully.

"I'm not sure we have a choice. It appears they have kept our existence a secret, but if we do not help ..." Teyla says.

"There is that. Carson, I know you've been working on the weaponisation of the retrovirus. How close are you?" Elizabeth looks at Beckett as she asks the question.

"We're close. It still needs work, but we're close".

Elizabeth looks at Ronon who is looking straight back at her.

"What?" he demands abruptly, startled that she is asking his opinion.

"What do _you_ think?" she asks him, clearly thinking that she knows what his answer is going to be.

"Let's do it," he says, a challenging look in his eyes.

Rodney looks startled and Elizabeth raises her eyebrows in surprise. "Really?"

"Sheppard said it himself - it's our idea".

"I just thought you of all people ..." Elizabeth begins to say before Ronon cuts her off.

"Hey, if they want our help killing other Wraith, it's one kind of help I'm happy to provide". He shrugs carelessly and there is a wolfish look in his eyes.

"OK," Elizabeth concludes. She looks around the room at everyone. "So, we're going to do this". Nobody voices disagreement. "I'll accept the offer," she says calmly.

***

Restlessness makes Elizabeth walk to her usual spot on the balcony. She stops abruptly when she sees that someone is already occupying her favourite area.

"Dr Weir," Ronon greets her, staring out at the impossibly blue water. He appears not to care that he is intruding on a place Elizabeth considers to be her own domain. He doesn't give the appearance of someone who has been waiting for her but she can't help wondering.

"Ronon," she says politely.

She stands beside him and he glances down at her, his face expressionless. The breeze ruffles her hair and he can see the paleness of her skin and the troubled expression in her eyes. As usual, he says nothing but his thoughts are of her alone. Lately, his head has been full of images of her. He finds himself imagining skin against skin, his name whispered on her lips.

Ronon remains silent.

The silence stretches on and Elizabeth makes an attempt at conversation. "I assume that Colonel Sheppard has spoken with you about your assignment".

"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on Dr McKay," he says briefly. "We're leaving as soon as he has run some final tests with Dr Beckett".

"He was so excited the first time he went onboard the Hive ship - it probably just made him even more eager to go back and take another look. I suppose as a scientist his curiosity overcame his terror, in fact I have to confess that I - "

"You don't want to be onboard a Hive ship," Ronon says flatly. "It's better that you're here". Before she can say anything he adds quietly. "Safe".

Elizabeth's eyes widen slightly aware that it's not the glare of the sun that causes a sudden heat to rush through her body. "Nowhere in the Pegasus Galaxy is safe," she tells him. "Besides, sometimes I wish I was able to go off-world more than I do," she tells him.

"No". His tone is uncompromising and she stares at him curiously.

"We look up and see you above us when we leave and we see your face welcoming us back upon our return. It's your voice that connects us to Atlantis when we're off-world and calls us home again".

"I'm not particularly enamoured of the notion that I'm the little woman back home keeping the home fires burning," she says ironically.

"There is no shame in being our anchor. You are our leader and it is our duty to protect you and lay down our lives if necessary. In return, your duty is to lead us and to stay alive so that you can lead us," he tells her.

Elizabeth frowns. "I would have thought that you would expect your leader to lead you into battle. Would you even .... follow me .... if it wasn't for Colonel Sheppard?"

"Yes". The answer is out before she can even finish her question.

"I suppose with the Wraith around, there is no such thing as a non-combatant," she says with regret in her voice.

Ronon nods. "Though you are not a soldier, you are a warrior".

"That's me, Xena," she jokes to herself.

"Dr McKay has shown me this Xena person - you do not really resemble her," Ronon says seriously.

"I keep my leather bra hidden away for special occasions," Elizabeth quips, assuming that her allusion is going to fly right past him.

She stops abruptly when she realises that Ronon is smiling. "Didn't I just say that I have seen this Xena person?" he asks her. "And her leather bra".

Elizabeth laughs despite herself at the ridiculousness of the conversation.

The laugh makes Ronon stare at her with an arrested expression in his eyes. He doesn't often hear Elizabeth Weir laughing. At most it's that quick, tight-lipped smile she uses to reassure her people. Sometimes there's an exasperated smile at one of Sheppard's or McKay's more outlandish escapades. Sometimes it's a rueful smile but rarely is there a smile of pleasure or amusement and he has almost never heard her laugh.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asks him warily.

"I'm always looking at you," he says bluntly in his deep voice, his eyes travelling over her face, down the curve of her neck and the way her chest rises and falls beneath her red t-shirt.

"Why?" she asks, annoyed at herself for sounding faintly breathless. She's being disingenuous. She knows why he looks at her. She's seen the banked heat in his eyes and there's a matching heat within her that surprises her.

"No idea," Ronon replies tactlessly and Elizabeth's eyes widen. Whatever the answer, that's not the one she was expecting.

They stand there silently, breathing and staring at one another. "Don't know. Maybe I'm trying to decide if the skin here and here ......" he indicates her cheek, the side of her neck,"...is as soft as it looks .... and what this feels like," he says indicating her mouth. His hand lingers inches from her skin. She resists the urge to lean towards him. He smells of soap, fresh air and a clean masculine scent that she associates with him alone.

Her eyes are very dark and her gaze drops to his firm mouth and then moves back up to his intense gaze. He has a way of looking at her which makes her feel off balance. His gaze concentrates on her, sees past everything and makes it impossible for her to pretend. It's hard to be Dr Elizabeth Weir around Ronon Dex.

Elizabeth glances at his hand which still stops short of touching her.

"I'm not stopping you," she says softly, her heart pounding. She wants to run her lips down his warm, smooth flesh. Wants to feel the delicious heaviness of his body against hers as their bodies tangle.

Ronan shakes his head, pulls his hand back abruptly and grimaces slightly. "No ...if I put my hands on you, I'm not going to stop at just that," he tells her even though the honest longing in his eyes is now there for her to see.

Elizabeth puts her hand on his arm. His smooth, tanned skin is warm and alive beneath her touch and his body is taut with tension. His eyes don't move from hers and he puts his hand over hers, drawing her closer to him and when he lowers his mouth to hers, her mouth is soft and welcoming.

She makes a sound in her throat as he pulls her against him, his strong hands moving over her body as if he has a right to do so. Their mouths cling, taste and devour. Her breath is ragged and harsh and he backs her against the wall, his mouth biting the softness of the skin at her throat before capturing her mouth again. His hands are slightly rough, his fingertips calloused as he explores and demands.

Elizabeth gives a shaky laugh, putting her hands up to cup his face and then she slides her hands down his bare arms, lingering on the smooth warmth of his flesh.

"Why are you laughing?" he asks her, his voice a deep rumble.

"This is probably very unwise," she whispers, pressing her body against his.

"I want you," he tells her in a low, harsh voice.

"I can tell," she murmurs huskily. She groans as his hand slips beneath her blouse to touch her skin. "No. People might see," she whispers.

"I don't care," he mutters and kisses her again, his tongue tangling with hers. She can feel his beard scraping against her skin,

Her heart pounds noisily. Maybe its his heart. It's hard to tell. He closes his eyes, savouring the taste of her and the soft pliancy of how she feels in his arms.

His lips slide along her jaw, down her throat. He wants to sink to his knees before her and make her moan.

"You taste good," he tells her.

"Same," she whispers and he laughs.

"Ronon, it's time to go," McKay's loud and demanding voice can be heard clearly over the radio. Both Ronon and Elizabeth make sounds of frustration.

Ronon rests his brow against hers and exhales slowly, a slightly shaky sound. "I'm sorry. I have to go. _Elizabeth_ ," he says softly, saying her name for the first time.

She touches her fingers to his mouth and smiles.

"When I come back ...." he says.

"Yes?" she asks him, her hand sliding beneath the roughness of his shirt to touch his warm skin.

"I'm coming to you," he says with a wolfish smile.

She lifts her eyebrows in a way that he recognises well from mission briefings.

"I beg your pardon?" she asks him and he looks forward to the day when her facade of gracious imperiousness is lost to hot, tangled lust and want.

His mouth covers hers for a moment and then he draws back.

"You heard me the first time," he says roughly. I'm going to have you," he promises her and the intensity in his voice and eyes is exciting.

"I heard you," she agrees.

"And?" he demands, his eyes fiercely questioning.

"I suppose I'll be waiting for your knock on my door," she whispers, pressing a kiss to the base of his throat. There is silence and for once, he's the one who wants to hear words.

"Ronon".

"Yeah?"

"About your assignment...."

"Don't worry, I'll guard Dr McKay with my life. I know how valuable he is to you," he says and amusement plays about his firm mouth.

"And you ..... I want you to be careful," she tells him, her eyes are clouded with worry.

"That's very touching, Dr Weir," he says. "I don't think I've had anyone worry about me for as long as I can remember ..." despite his joking tone, his eyes are very serious.

"I expect you to honour your promise"..

He nods. "I promise I'll come back," he tells her. He releases her reluctantly, walking to the door and turning around to glance back at her.

"Okay?" he asks her questioningly, alluding to their previous brief and nonsensical conversations.

Elizabeth smiles back and it's a warm and genuine smile with nothing of the distant leader in it.

"Okay," she tells him.

Her heart lifts. Ronon has promised to return. She knows he'll be back.

For the first time he wishes he has the effortless and manic eloquence of Rodney McKay with his ability to say everything that is in his head in endless paragraphs of commentary. Even better, it would be nice to have have John Sheppard's more laconic, dry yet very expressive and droll wit.

In the end, all Ronon can do is smile at Elizabeth. His smile is almost boyish. It is like the arrival of spring's warmth after a long cold winter.

Elizabeth Weir doesn't need to hear the words. As far as she's concerned, Ronon Dex has already said all that he needs to say.

  
**The End**   



End file.
